There is a popular assumption – especially in the west – that because Arab regimes tend to be autocratic and authoritarian, the state in Arab countries is also strong.

Yesterday on Cif, Ahmed Moor wrote about the problem of disbanding Palestinian militias in Lebanon. Why, you might wonder, doesn't the Lebanese government just pull its finger out and disarm them? The short answer is that it can't because it's too weak.

Similarly, as I pointed out myself in an article a couple of weeks ago, most Arab governments are incapable of collecting taxes effectively.

There is a paradox here, because Arab regimes have an almost insatiable urge to control. They legislate and regulate endlessly, they establish large armies and security forces and employ vast bureaucracies – and yet their ability to exercise power and influence the behaviour of their citizens is far more limited than it looks.

Regime survival is of course the top priority, so it's hardly surprising that the power of the state should be directed towards controlling dissent, and that this is the area where its might is deployed most forcefully and effectively. But exercising power in this way is often mistaken for a sign of strength when in reality it is an acknowledgment of vulnerability. As the late Nazih Ayubi noted in his book, Over-stating the Arab State: "The Arab state is therefore often violent because it is weak."

The Egyptian state, for example, may be perfectly capable of arresting demonstrators by the lorry-load, but it has also been trying for 10 years to persuade its citizens to wear seatbelts in their cars, with little success. For more than half a century, off and on, it has also been trying to stamp out female genital mutilation – again, without making much of a dent in traditional attitudes

In his groundbreaking book, Ayubi drew an important distinction between strong states and hard states. Unlike a strong state, a state that is hard may also be weak. A hard state tends to be highly centralised and interventionist, seeking (though not necessarily successfully) "to enforce a detailed, standardised regulation of the economy and the society".

A strong state, meanwhile, is complementary to society and operates in partnership with its citizens. Its strength lies not in subjugation but in "its ability to work with and through other centres of power in society". By these criteria, most Arab states can be described as predominantly "hard but weak". In comparison, European states lean towards the "strong but soft" – strong because they are generally capable of effecting change and implementing laws, and soft because they can do so without much need for coercion.

Here in Britain we have far more freedom than the citizens of Arab countries. And yet, by a curious irony, the regulation of our lives by government is far more extensive. Everyday activities such as work and business practices are subject to a multiplicity of rules that simply do not exist in most Arab countries.

This type of regulation, though, is not so much an attempt to curtail freedom as to balance competing freedoms: the freedom of businesses to make money, for example, versus the freedom of their employees not to be exploited. In general the aim is to protect the weak from the strong and to shield the individual from malpractices, health and safety hazards, and so on.

The concept of "the public good", insofar as it exists at all in Arab countries, is mainly directed towards social conformity and the enforcement of "morality" in line with religious precepts – and never mind if people are killed by unseaworthy ships or collapsing houses.

The types of regulation found in Britain and other western countries are not only different in character but compliance is higher. High levels of compliance depend not just on the existence of laws but on public acceptance of the rationale behind them.

Prospects for compliance are also improved if the processes for introducing new laws and regulations are perceived to be legitimate. That requires a culture of public scrutiny and debate where interested parties and the media can express their views freely (it helps too, of course, if the ultimate decision rests with a properly elected body).

Where there is general acceptance of a law, enforcement becomes a last resort rather than the first line of defence. The mere threat of enforcement can often be enough to ensure compliance, but that only works where noncompliance is known to be futile – where the police, the courts and enforcement officials cannot be influenced by bribery or pulling rank.

This is not to suggest that western systems are perfect, but to show why, by comparison, Arab countries have such problems with compliance. In line with the generally patriarchal approach to government, Arab laws tend to be handed down from on high by diktat and the lack of critical scrutiny before they are approved often results in vague or ambiguous language that makes them more difficult to implement.

With less debate, there is less opportunity for the public to be persuaded of the rationale behind new laws – a difficulty which is compounded by the regimes' general lack of legitimacy and perception of government as a creator of obstacles, rather than a facilitator and a partner with Arab society in solving problems. In addition to all that, there is the perception, at least among those with money and influence, that compliance may be optional.